Closure
by oildrumhall
Summary: Kamichika Rio often wondered if the one she'd known as Nakura now looked back on his actions guiltily, or with a more sinister satisfaction. But the bad luck known as coincidence wasn't done with her yet.
1. Part 1

**A/N:** I put up really short drabbles and excerpts on my Tumblr every once in a while... But this is my first time on any site posting a story that isn't just a 700-word-or-under oneshot of some sort; I feel like I'm really going out on a limb here, aahh! However, I don't want my over-analyzing ramblings to be a deterrent from reading this fic right off the bat; instead of including them here at the beginning, they can be found as Post-Chapter Author's Notes at the bottom of this page. Please do give them a read. :)

That said- and be warned- although the first chapter is quite clean, this is not a fluffy fic in the least. If anyone is curious about the rating, warnings, and selected genres, elaboration can be found in the ending notes mentioned above.

Putting aside my forewarning thoughts, I hope that you will enjoy this beginning installment!

* * *

**Closure**

* * *

The girl who was just a little mysterious turned into the classroom doorway that morning as always.

It was her everyday life, and it was not abnormal. She simply lived as any other 16 year-old girl in high school should, sitting quietly at her desk listening to the classroom lectures, as was expected of every student. Her grades were more than decent and her parents were proud. At last night's dinner her father had shown her a warm smile as they all sat around the table eating their stew; he inquired about her day. She had passed last week's test and earned a fair B+. Her mother beamed.

The girl's parents did not push her. She was a good student who brought home good grades. There was no cause for concern with her attendance and her school record was clean with no signs of troublemaking, nor did she partake in risky extracurricular hobbies that might have worried them. She simply lived the life of a healthy teenage girl and played her part well; it was not an act, although there were times when the memories and worries that swirled about in her head were of the sort that brought reality to a surreal and disconnected pause.

She learned to push them away quickly, when the thoughts had been often and disruptive. Enough time had passed now for the events to seem oddly out of place in her mental timeline, and, at some point in the past year, they had become blurred and repressed. The words that had changed her outlook so profoundly stuck with her as a soft comforting mantra whenever she became sad, which was less and less frequently. The past few months in fact seemed to be completely void of the gloom that had haunted her.

It was a calm and content apathy that ruled the young girl now. She found that, much like the years before, it was hard to truly connect to the things society deemed fundamental aspects of a young modern life... The difference being that such little disappointments mattered little to none these days, where as in her past it was the simple joys whose appeal escaped her. She had been lost, a shell wandering through the routine that had used to be _hers_. It was as though her very soul had been dislodged by the threatening circumstances that found their way into her seemingly mundane family life, and she had let the problems of others consume her until the only purposeful option was ultimately to cease to exist.

The girl was out of that darkness.

She ignored the pain that plagued her in the weeks after her only support revealed itself to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. And she had been fine, at first. But eventually it was the passing of time that began to pick at her scars instead of healing them. Perhaps she had forced herself to recover too fast... Yes, that had to be it. Such enlightened bliss could never last without the true impact of what had happened hitting her hard and heavy soon after. When at last there was enough distance between those events and her newly embraced optimism— only when she realized that it was truly over— did the girl allow herself to grieve.

But thankfully, it was a phase that she did not dwell in. She decided that she had to fully accept what had happened if she could ever forget it. She had been a fool. In the end, her selfishness had been the root of all her troubles, after all. It was her fault. And, at the same time, it had never even involved her.

The girl who should have died chose to accept both truths from that night. First, there were the words that the cruel man she'd known as Nakura had drilled into her on the roof; despite the woes she had bestowed upon herself to carry, _Kamichika Rio was not special_; and, second, _the world was not as bad as she'd made it out to be_.

One year wiser as she departed Raira Academy later in the day, Rio wondered if her strange savior knew that the glowing message on their phone's screen had stuck with her so strongly all this time. Thoughts of the Black Rider filled her with a mix of security and hopeful uncertainty. Did they know the difference that such a phrase made in the girl's life? And, the other, did he now look back on his actions guiltily, or with a more sinister satisfaction?

Stopping at the school gates, the sophomore's gut did a small lurch.

For that split second, she had thought of him.

The second Rio sensed her thoughts grasping at the face of the one she'd poured her feelings to a sort of lockdown would take hold of her mind. She would push it away, just as she'd taught herself in the couple of months after their rendezvous, and move on with her life without delay.

What she hadn't yet learned was the pure damage this kind of avoidance could cause.

In forcing herself to forget, to simply move on without a single second of acknowledgement, she had set herself up for something far more torturous and self-inflicting.

She was not over him.

Until she brought herself to face that simple fact, to examine the unsaid words she had held back through his monologue; her feelings; her reasons; and everything that the person 'Nakura' had represented for the lonely girl who had been ready to give him her heart, Rio would not be free.

_I never even told him. _But perhaps she hadn't needed to...

It was this what-if thought process chock full of could'ves and should'ves that sent her reeling dangerously close to her old cycle.

And so, taking a deep breath as other classmates in their uniforms passed her by without a care in the world, Rio put one foot in front of the other and held her head high. Such unresolved angst had no place in her heart today.

As she overhead a student cagily mention to the bespectacled girl beside him that he'd seen Orihara Izaya in town today, she paid them no mind... for _this _name meant nothing to her.

Such dramatic irony held little significance at that particular time, but whether she had been attentive enough to perceive the presence of this man her fellow student spoke of so nervously as a warning or not, perhaps it would not have made any difference; an impulsive heart desperate for answers is known to seek closure in the boldest of ways.

Unfortunately, for Kamichika Rio, the girl who should have died nearly one year ago to the day, the bad luck known as coincidence— or perhaps fate— wasn't done with her yet.

* * *

"I figured I should get a head start on a vacation day, right? It's really early now, but that just leaves me with more things to do and more people to see."

Orihara Izaya had told his Raira student acquaintance this as they happened to pass on the other's way to school. It couldn't be blamed on pure accident he had managed to encounter Mikado. Hanging nearby the school's campus with an eye out for familiar faces was certainly likely to produce results, but it still had the quality of a pleasant—and, for the student, uneasy—surprise so early in the morning.

"Don't worry. I didn't come to see _you_ or anyone specifically, not really. But I figured I should still stop by, just in case."

"Right." The boy had glanced towards the school entrance as they neared the building. "W- Well... I don't want to be late... So..." It was at least ten minutes before class would start. The informant offered a small smile at the obvious excuse and said nothing. "I mean," Mikado added quietly, "it's just that there's a short representative meeting before class."

"Bye, then..." Izaya tilted his head and remained at his spot outside the gate. As the seconds went by he began to count, wondering how long Mikado would delay his exit in order to not appear so rude.

_1. 2. 3... 4? 5...? Really?_

"...Yeah. Bye."

He watched the teen's turned back until it became blended into the crowd of students near the front. "Heh, did you really think I would take my leave first...?"

The hours had passed uneventfully. It was afternoon, and Izaya now stood beside the Alpa mall fountain in Sunshine City. So far the day had been spent strolling along the busy streets, treating himself to a rather indulgent lunch at Namja Town, and merely kicking back and relaxing on a couple of benches to people-watch. He did this for hours with no sign of stopping. It was more or less a casual outing than a true vacation.

Nevertheless, Izaya had taken off work and left the office for a day. He planned to have no real plans, enjoying Ikebukuro for recreation rather than business of some kind. It was a go-with-the-flow sort of attitude that the info broker took with him on the train. It was eight minutes from Shinjuku to use the commuter rail, so he'd started his day no earlier or later than was needed on any normal workday.

Visiting Ikebukuro was not an everyday occasion in the least; sometimes Izaya went weeks without the need to go anywhere else than his own apartment. In fact, this very deprivation was Izaya's motivation that morning for such an outing. He yearned to experience and appreciate the city crowds once more and completely unwind.

As luck would have it that day, no aggressive confrontations stumbled upon him. Mikado so far was the only person with whom Izaya even bothered to directly interact—no one had approached him, either.

He was merely an observer—

As was the young girl who had entered the mall some seconds before, laid her eyes on the man in the fur trim coat, and stopped dead in her tracks.

* * *

**Post-Chapter A/N:** Forgive me, I typically wouldn't write an author's note of such length, but for this fic in particular, and _especially_ since it's my very first submission here, I have a lot to say. So here we go!

This fic, by the time of its completion, will actually be the culmination of several scenarios and ideas that have been floating around in my head for months. When I started it, I was in bed on my laptop at 2 a.m. with the irrepressible urge to start typing up at least _one _of them. While going over what I had written (Rio's first section) that next morning, I realized that I could very well transform this fic in such a way that it encompassed virtually all of my ideal situations and headcanons for the rarepair that is IzaRio. And what a lonely ship it is... I always feel a bit isolated admitting that Rio has always been a favorite character of mine._  
_

On the subject of the dynamic between Izaya and Rio, there is no underlying vibe of happiness or sweet infatuation to be interpreted in this fic, nor is there much coming close at all to the endearing concept of 'ROMANCE'. In fact, in the process of publishing, I had an extremely hard time picking which two genres to label it with, so I will list the favorable ones here:

DRAMA (check), TRAGEDY, and with that comes the given ANGST- but I should note that for many people this eventually may fall under HORROR due to the intensely dark nature of some elements. If I could give it a more accurately customized category, it would be listed under HURT/HURT. Haha... I wish that submissions had a section of input for Warnings and potential triggers themselves while publishing. I don't mind personally listing them in the description, but I would think it'd be more convenient! In any case: _The later chapters of this fic will contain **emotional manipulation**, **dubcon/coercion**, and** violent sexual assault**._ For the latter circumstance, I please ask that you hold off on any assumptions of the 'obvious' or predictions and expect the unexpected..

The first section of the next chapter is already written and I'll be finishing it up soon, striving for much longer sections and longer chapters as I go along! I'd debated uploading Rio's start as a prologue, but I wanted to make it apparent as a first impression that the character-centric perspective intermittently flips.

For my last words, I hope and wish that any readers will stick with me through the grisly premise and be my encouraging light at the end of the tunnel so that I may follow it through to the end! It will be a long and winding ride.


	2. Part 2

**2**

* * *

Whatever thoughts had been in Kamichika Rio's head as she passed through the Alpa mall doors dissipated in an instant.

The jacket was what caught the girl's eye first. Rio had seen only one person dressed in that specific garb in her life— it would not be inaccurate to speculate that a unique coat like that was either custom made or rather pricey— but though it was enough to make her pause, it was not an instant recognition. _Where...? I've seen it before, but where? _In those first few moments, the association and name itself escaped her. Rio blinked hard and clutched the strap of her schoolbag while she searched her mind. It would have seemed silly to be preoccupied with the mere spotting of a coat she'd seen worn before; it could've been anyone's she had seen on the street, in the city, any place the girl had ever gone... But the anxious feeling that had formed in her stomach as soon as she walked through those doors signaled that it was something important. It had to be.

The man in front of the fountain some meters ahead appeared to be texting with eyes locked on the phone's screen. As she struggled to recall the identity of the one in her sights, the girl's heart beat faster. Her whole body was simply on pause. Rio's instincts and subconscious were screaming to move. The confused and irritated reactions of strangers as they parted around the young girl who'd halted so suddenly in their path went unnoticed as she finally took a single step forward, and then another. If she could just see his face closer...

While the student's slow and deliberate movements brought her nearer to her target, he himself was still focused on the distractive electronic world. Head lowered, the young man's face remained undetermined with features unluckily obscured by the phone he held up.

With Rio a few feet away, the cell's top half snapped shut quite suddenly. She could see at once that his eyes were burgundy.

_Him..._

The distantly familiar face was the same as the one in the dreams that left Rio feeling haunted and weak. She could block out that night throughout her everyday thoughts with ease, but subconscious had the tendency to bring back painful memories against her will in the form of restless nights and the occasional night terror— _her parents had run into her room while she screamed, held her as she shook, but she couldn't remember, she did not know why she was jolted out of dreams by her tears and shrieks but—_ everyone has 'falling dreams', right...?

Standing frozen in place a couple meters away from the trigger himself, that was the very nauseating sensation Rio felt then too—falling, _falling_, her stomach churning while her body began to tremble with something that could not be merely shock or fear alone, and she felt as though she might faint.

Rio did not notice she was moving until she found herself in the dead-end of a bathroom stall and was greeted by her own pale-faced, wide-eyed reflection in the toilet's water. Without delay, she began to gag, and both her emotions and the breakfast she'd eaten that morning spilled out at once.

Nakura had looked at her.

* * *

The text alert on one of his cell phones was beeping.

As the entrance doors to the mall opened and some more people spilled inside, Izaya reached into his pocket to retrieve an older model displaying a message from his secretary. The tetchiness of her phrasing was hardly subtle. The iPhone he used primarily for business communication purposes had been turned off for the day, but that wasn't enough to deter her from demanding why he hadn't called that morning to inform her there was no need to come in to work; in that moment he nearly regretted giving her this number as an emergency backup in the first place. Staring at the text with a slight sigh, he considered ignoring it altogether.

Moments later he received a second incoming message that bared the same exact words as the original.

It was quickly joined by a third.

"_A reasonable question, but wasn't the note I left..._"_—_a fourth text interrupted his typing_—_"..._on the desk saying you could go home clear enough?_" Before he could press send, 1 New Message from Yagiri Namie interjected yet again. Was she planning to fill his whole inbox with duplicate texts simply out of spite...? "_Also, I get it, I get it! Stop spamming me._"

Her reply was instantaneous, as though Namie had predicted his own slightly evasive response and prepared a barrage of appropriate counterattacks to leave ready and waiting in her drafts. Izaya did not put it past her. "_It took me this long to even find your stupid note. You could've just put it on the door!_" The woman was obviously irritated that she'd already blown half of what could have been a day off at work anyway needlessly organizing documents that her boss wouldn't need ready until tomorrow... well, he couldn't blame her for that. It wasn't as though he hadn't expected this sort of reaction either, or even prompted it. The thought of leaving the note on the door had in fact been his first instinct. But Izaya didn't think she would take being told 'You're right, I did this to screw with you' quite well. The two exchanged a couple of wry responses. "_Next time you should take a minute out of your precious day to just call me with a heads-up! Don't you dare give me more of your excuses- don't bother replying at all. I refuse to deal with you for the rest of the day. I'm going home._"

Izaya smiled at her finality. "_You_ _texted me first and now you're telling me to go away? What nerve..._"

"_Shut up already_"

Allowing their brief interaction to end for the time being, he made a mental note to ask how her wonderful day had gone later and finally he pushed the phone's upper half closed with his index finger; his thumb retracted itself instinctively from the bottom before it was painfully sandwiched in-between the screen and the keyboard, a second nature habit he'd mastered a few years before. Being accustomed to conducting much of his business and appointment scheduling over the phone and through email had helped develop the ability to respond to even multiple separate messages quite rapidly and with ease. His job as an information broker was a fitting compliment to these assets and his recreations, where the ability to utilize the convenient speed of the digital age came up just as often as in his work. Although similarly tech-savvy youths often lacked and sacrificed true social skills as a fair trade for virtual, effortless contact, Izaya's charisma was unchallenged.

Of course, this charm seemed lost on his secretary. _Well, you can't win them all..._

As Izaya pocketed the cell phone and raised his head back up to the small weekday crowd, he found himself inadvertently meeting the gaze of a young girl a few feet in front of him. A Raira student, he noted, and as he took in her appearance Izaya saw that the girl's whole body was shaking. He quickly returned his eyes' view to her face, which had paled so fast it seemed he'd blinked his vision of her from full color to grayscale in an instant.

The girl stared at him for a whole second more and then, mouth open in what appeared to be horrified shock, she bolted, schoolbag slipping off her shoulder with disregard and falling to the ground as she ran. Izaya watched the teen flee from the sight of him in puzzlement, peering beyond the fountain to follow her with his eyes; she disappeared from sight soon after, veering around a corner that he assumed must lead to public restrooms on the other side of the mall.

Izaya continued to stand in place near the entrance, glancing around at other people moving along without real acknowledgement of the girl's panicked sprint. Anyone who had taken notice probably figured she had seen a friend she'd planned to meet up with; he would have speculated just the same, if not for the deer-in-headlights stare she had given him. "Just what was that about...?" He bent down and picked up the girl's abandoned bag.

_First off, how does she know me? _Such an unabashed reaction of terror was abnormal, even among his most cautious and mistrusting acquaintances. Izaya had not recognized her face, which made it likely that it had been a one-time encounter.

This narrowed the possibility down to someone he had once hurt. So, by process of elimination, that meant this girl could be...

_...Well, anyone at all, then._

The unsuspecting victims of Izaya's hobbies— after having served their designated purpose of entertaining him— were forgotten straight away, without exception. He held no special place of remembrance in his head or his heart for those he met with purely for his experimentation with human feelings. They were merely test subjects for his studying of cause and effect. Pull on the right strings, and they would take the predicted action; give them a push on the back and they would tend to stumble in the direction of his choosing; or give them something they had been without, only to take it away and watch them flounder.

Izaya decided to guess which game he'd played with this one.

"I think I deserve a little hint. So, what's your name, Ms. Mystery Student?" He held her bag up by the thin pink strap and stuck his hand inside, feeling around. His fingered wrapped around what had to be a hardcover textbook for one of her classes, which he retrieved for examination. Leafing through a few of the pages first, Izaya flipped back to the inside of the front cover. "Bingo. '_Issued to... Kamichika Rio_'. Rio, huh?" He reflected on the name momentarily, still coming up blank as he slipped her book back in the bag. "Well. I can't say that rings any bells, too bad."

Izaya headed for the restrooms Rio escaped to with her bag slung over his right shoulder. "Guess I'll have to ask you to your face, then, won't I?"

The grin on his face was one of purely disturbing enthusiasm.

* * *

Back against the wall, Rio remained on the dirty tiled floor until her breathing slowed. The frighteningly uncontrollable contractions that forced air down her throat were subsiding, although she could still feel her heart beating a mile a minute. This was the first time since the initial moments of her abduction one year ago that the girl had felt genuine fear. Unfamiliar to the irrepressible sensations of a full-blown panic attack, feeling her body hyperventilate involuntarily had sent her into a further state of terror, and now Rio's chest continued to heave with an aching gloom.

Despite the perfect details of her restless nights still escaping her, she sensed she was trapped inside a real-life reenactment of her recurring nightmare. _Why? Why is he here? _Using the side of the stall as support, Rio rose shakily to her feet and flushed the evidence of her unsettled stomach.

_I'm... so stupid. I just ran. I ran away! _A flash of anger towards her cowardice replaced the remnants of fear while she left the restroom. Rio given thought to a second meeting with Nakura countless times, and in each fantasy, she got the last laugh. Such idealistic results had proved to be unrealistic expectations. It took only the sight of that stupid jacket to catch her off guard, and Rio was turned to a sniveling mess on the floor of a bathroom stall at their eye contact. The fact that she had even dropped her bag before fleeing— despite being the last thing on her mind— was somehow even more humiliating.

Exiting the private and safe space, she did not give any thought to what Nakura's own reactions might be at this moment. Nor did she consider that their chance encounter had not in fact ended the moment she sprinted for emotional recovery in solitude.

Rio was just as unprepared to hear the sound of his voice as she had been unexpected to meet his indifferent gaze just minutes before.

"That was quite the dramatic exit, you know." Nakura was standing poised and ready beside the bathroom door. He stepped up behind her, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder the moment it swung shut. "In fact, I just can't help but think it seemed personal..."

* * *

**Post-Chapter A/N:** Whoo... my 1,800+ word goal for this chapter was met and succeeds around 2k- so I think my any satisfaction on my part is pretty fair. :')

Before publishing, I hadn't worked on this fic for several weeks; I really wasn't sure how well I would be able to jump back into the groove for continuation. The first section in this chapter ended up going through a ton of revision and rewriting in the past couple of days, but from the second one on everything was new writing from scratch, so I hope that everything flows just fine!

If I can manage to stay focused, part 3 will be finished by the weekend. Any reviews can only boost that motivation, haha!


	3. Part 3

**A/N:** I wasn't actually expecting to get more than maybe one review other than the one from my bf- but _damn_, you people...! ;A; Thank you all so much... you have all inspired me above and beyond!

* * *

**3**

* * *

Izaya had been waiting for her to vacate the restroom for around two minutes before Rio made an appearance, standing on the left side of the door so as not to be seen by the person opening it. He moved forward as soon as Rio had checked out; it was a deliberate move to block the entrance as a preventative measure. If he had stood on the other side in plain sight of anyone leaving, there was absolutely nothing stopping her from turning around to flee right back into the lockable room.

It was not his intention to leave her cornered. The girl could run straight ahead and disappear back into the mall crowds if she chose... but Izaya was betting strongly against that outcome. She didn't seem the type to drastically avoid this sort of confrontation at close quarters, especially one initiated by him. What the first response of flight told the young man was that the sudden sight of him was something that Kamichika Rio had simply not expected. As he looked up at her she had been but a few feet away and was positioned in such a manner that it seemed obvious she'd been approaching him herself, most likely to confirm his identity. Her evasive reaction was one of shock and fear rather than revulsion at his presence.

She would not run now. Izaya approached and spoke with a hard-to-refuse coolness that was so casual any normal person would feel simply ridiculous for fearing this interaction. His next set of words, however, had a more provoking suggestion to them.

The way the girl's whole body jolted at his sudden voice put an even wider smile on the informant's face.

Rio had wheeled around to face him and he put his other hand on her shoulder, stepping closer.

"Hm, why are you _shaking_...? There's no need for that! I don't bite." Izaya could feel the slight trembling of her shoulders with his whole hand and squeezed it; she flinched. "I think we need to have a little talk... I find your demeanor towards me completely insulting. Really, what's with this pale face? Do I scare you?"

Rio's mouth no longer hung agape. Her lips now were tightly pressed together in a thin, shaky line, looking as though they were on the verge of opening to speak; but each time they came close she seemed to change her mind and force them even tauter. Izaya used her silence to study the girl's face closely, looking for any distinguishing features to jog his memory. There was nothing specific like a mole or lazy eye. Still, the sense came over him— and it was not purely from her frightened reactions— that Izaya had indeed met with her in the past. The way her expression itself was settled on her face with such recognizable ease greeted him with a small bout of déjà vu and he felt sure of it. He _knew_ he had seen it before, somewhere, at some other time...

The exact details of the memory remained cloudy for him until a few verbal exchanges later, but it was the same wide-eyed, hurt-filled face she had stared at him with on that rooftop.

* * *

"...I..."

Rio couldn't speak; her throat seemed to have gone dry.

He was touching her. This slight physical contact was so distracting that any words she might have spat back had retreated to the back of her mind. Rio thought she could feel Nakura's thumb resting against the skin of her neck, and a tingling sensation that started in her gut stole her focus. Uncomfortable as it made her, she couldn't bring herself to swipe his hand off or step away from it.

She swallowed heavily and took another shallow breath, finally managing to force out a few strained words. "I'm not scared..."

It was a lie. The calm smile on the young man's face seemed a clear sign that he could see right through it, too...

"Do you really expect me to buy that?" Nakura chuckled, and it inwardly fueled another small flash of anger towards herself. Couldn't she have come up with something, _anything_better than that to say first? "You look like you've seen a ghost, you know."

Rio tried hard to keep her gaze eye-level, finding it slightly easier to reply if she ignored the amused look on his face. "Well, yeah, and- and so what...? Do you expect _me_ to be just fine right now? I..." _Don't look up. Don't look at him. _"I didn't want to ever see you again." _Lie. That's another lie. I just... didn't expect it, not now. Please don't laugh at me again. Please, don't laugh-!_

Much to Rio's thankful surprise, he didn't. "Oh? Why not?" Nakura tilted his head down towards hers, attempting to prompt more eye contact. "So whatever I did was _that bad_, huh...?" He was voicing his own thoughts aloud.

"Wh-_ 'Why not'_?" Her head snapped back up fast at his reply, and she tried—but failed—not to flinch back at the lack of distance between their faces now. This hesitation was obvious, and Rio began to pray she hadn't started to blush. "Because, you...!" _Does he not even remember? _"You lied to me! A year ago, you _tricked_ me, and... and you mocked me..." The girl waited for a hint of recognition in his strange eyes.

There was none.

"And now... Nakura, you don't remember who I even am... Do you?"

"No." His reply was shameless and immediate. "But I certainly made an impression, didn't I!" It wasn't a question. The young man seemed amazed, in fact—even _proud_—of whatever his intimidating influence had been to her.

Embarrassment continued to churn in her gut stronger than ever with another side of consistent anger and... Yes, even disappointment... _I'm pathetic. I'm so pathetic! Of course he doesn't remember, he said I'm not special. I'm not... So why, why did I think he would still care at all? Even enough to remember my name, or my nickname, _anything_ at all... _She had not disclosed her real identity to Nakura during the time they talked; he had always called her Magenta-san, an alias derived from the email account she had contacted him through, 'magenta_amethyst'._ W- Wait... Does that mean Nakura is...?_

Standing in front of him for the second time in person, a whole year later, it dawned on her now that Nakura couldn't possibly be his real name, either.

As ashamed as she was, Rio held back more tears, glaring up at him. "Who are _you_, then?"

He blinked evenly, revealing nothing new. "Well, you obviously already know that. You just called me 'Nakura', after all. So~ I must be Nakura, to you, at least."

"No...! What's your _real_ name?" _I'm sick of being lied to... I'm so sick of it...!_ "Tell me who you are, really, or I won't give you my name either!" Rio slowly clenched the shaking hands at her sides into fists, gathering every bit of courage she still had to face the one who'd stripped it all away. "You want to know... right? That's why you're talking to me. You want to know who I am, and why I... ran away from you. So tell me." _I deserve to know._

After the teen finished speaking, Nakura stood up straight and put his hand back into a pocket. He was pausing slightly at her request in what had to be mental deliberation, taking his sweet time and leaving her hanging. It was then that Rio finally noticed her own schoolbag in his possession and felt sudden relief that it hadn't been left on the dirty mall floor after all to be kicked around or stolen. Rio nearly blurted out a demand for it back, but quickly thought to hold her tongue. She would not risk giving Nakura any opportunity to change the subject.

At long last, he sighed. "You aren't going to drop it..." _Was that what he was waiting for? For me to say 'never mind' and take it back?_ "I think you're too curious for your own good. But, look who's talking..." The black-haired man let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "Anyway, I'm free right now. How convenient for you..."

_So is he going to tell me, then? _Rio, although feeling a small spark of hope, waited for him to list some sort of condition or counteroffer.

"If you want to come, my place is back in Shinjuku. After all, we have some catching up to do... don't we?"

* * *

The two of them walked in silence the whole way back out through the mall's entrance doors with the girl trailing a foot or so behind the other. She slowly moved along with her eyes on the ground, holding the strap of her returned bag rather nervously, and Izaya glanced back every few seconds to make sure she hadn't stopped or lost sight of him on the street as he weaved through the throngs of people on their way home from work.

His final decision to bring her home to the office was made carefully and with a bit of reluctance. Their conversation would be best continued in seclusion, he was sure. Although it would be more convenient to suggest going somewhere like a quiet café or Ikebukuro West Gate Park, Izaya was taking a risk hanging around the same spot in this city for too long. He had learned to keep his wits about him here, but staying still in one place made him a sitting target for an unsavory encounter. Not only was he unsafe in letting his guard down, the girl could very well become an accidental casualty should trouble find him after all. The mental image of using Rio as a deliberate human shield against Ikebukuro's strongest man flashed in Izaya's mind and he suppressed a dry laugh. It was wise to avoid that sort of situation at all costs...

There was also the slight disinclination of being seen with this girl in public. While they had stood outside of the restrooms, Izaya noticed a few suspicious looks thrown their way. It wouldn't be a completely unfounded assumption that she was being harassed. The uncomfortable vibe Rio was giving off— looking like she would rather be anywhere else on the planet than with him— would make concerned intervention unavoidable.

It appeared simply necessary; they would have their talk in private.

Discarding these matters of practicality, Izaya wondered how the anxious girl's demeanor would change once alone with him behind closed doors. He could at least predict the continuation of her awkward quietness in his presence. She was intimidated by him, subtly flustered by only a hand on her shoulder; how much would it take to earn a more vocal reaction, or have her turn push to shove...?

As they made their way to the station, more reasons to avoid public exposure arose. While Rio would hold back under societal pressure out in public, he could always implement rules of 'whatever happens in his apartment stays'. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, thinking of swaying her to make some sort of move... However, if he was guessing their connection right, she could be just as easily predicted as before.

Rio's admissions of their past encounter were working rusty cogs back into motion. He remembered now a deceiving set-up prepared for a young girl not too long ago, the fake suicide pact taken one step further; a kidnapping by human traffickers thrown into the mix; a dramatic rescue performed by his lovely transporter, the Dullahan; and the teen's anticipated, anti-climactic introduction to the real 'Nakura' on the roof of that building. Izaya had arranged meetings with similar pact intentions previously, though they had been much less personal events for the others. Once, there had been two of them, both young women with low hopes for the future and foolish, disappointing logic. That meeting had prompted him to take his suicide rendezvous to the next level, working more closely with predicting and invalidating the associated emotions. As a result, he found the girl he'd involved in this more elaborately prepared plot to be so much more entertaining...

Despite the nippy wind that night, Izaya recalled noticing she had chosen to dress a bit immodestly. Short-shorts had left her legs entirely bare, and though he took into consideration that it might simply be her chosen final outfit before she perished, Izaya thought it more likely that she had been showing herself off for him; she had looked ready for a date with her crush... not death. Kamichika Rio had not truly wanted to die. He had called her out on it, and struck gold; the blush on her face when he admitted he held no special affections for her above humanity itself revealed the girl's real motives to Izaya that night...

She had liked him.

From the way Rio spoke, Izaya believed her to be none other than the same young girl who had taken a dive to her death following his big reveal.

She could not know that he had watched her then, with a smile on his face as she stepped off the edge and began to plummet. Would the girl try to hide that attempt from him now out of shame, or reference it in some blaming guilt-trip? Izaya almost hoped she had learned from her unintended survival and would keep her mouth shut; that way he could still drop an all-knowing bombshell on her later.

_Surprise... Magenta-san. But it wouldn't hurt to play innocent for a little while more. How far will you go, I wonder, just to make me remember you...?_

They entered Ikebukuro Station's East exit, where Izaya briefly stopped and held out his hand for her to take.

"We're headed for the JR Yamanote line... It's busy here, so stay close to me."

For a few seconds it looked as though Rio would deny his gesture. Then, dipping her head, she reached out for him. Izaya pulled her through the crowd, feeling the girl's smaller hand squeeze his as he led her towards the platform.

* * *

The last time Nakura's hand had come anywhere close to holding hers, it had been for the purpose of dangling Rio from a perilous height.

Taking hold of it now, a swell of dread rose to her chest. The memory flashed; staring into the ground's bloody stain from above, cold wind whipping through her white blouse, Nakura's fingers clasped around her wrist... With only a metal bar to hold for support, he had left her body suspended over the edge of the roof in midair with her only hope being that he would keep his grip.

_"Want me to let go?"_

She couldn't answer him then. '_No.'_ Hanging there with her fate quite literally in his hands, Rio felt sheer terror being in the face of death; he hadn't even grabbed her hand itself and given her full control of her choice. '_I don't want to die...' _She had believed in that moment, with fear pumping adrenaline from her head to her toes, that Nakura would surely drop her. Eyes wide, she went into silent shock. But he had read her mind from the look on her face, and pulled her back up towards him. With his hands on her shoulders holding her steady again, Rio had wished to step into that embrace and cling to his shirt, crying her thanks for sparing her. Soon after she had been ashamed for even _thinking_ it, and feared if she showed such weakness he might even change his mind to teach her a final lesson. He could've pushed her right off the roof...

She hadn't cried. She knew he would think her even more foolish and pathetic.

_But I was..._

Rio felt thankful now at least that she'd managed not to beg for her life.

_And what if I'd said 'yes' back then? If I'd dared him to kill me, would he do it?_

Predicting the plausible answer to that gave her stomach a sickening lurch.

He'd said they were going to his home. But what if it was another trick? His hand now pulled her to his goal, a guide in place of the lifeline it had once served. Once again Rio's complete trust had been put in this man, and she didn't even know who he really was... Their destination was Shinjuku; if that was a lie, so be it. She wanted to live her life with no regrets. Even if this were to end up a foolish decision, she could accept that mistake and move on.

Wherever 'Nakura' tried to lead her today, Rio would go.

The girl gripped his hand tight, putting memories of that night out of her mind, and followed him into the train.

* * *

**Post-Chapter A/N:** I'm still shocked I even had people left waiting for this! Sorry that the chapter came later than I'd judged it would; my week was a bit odd. I promise Part 4 will be a big one and thanks again for the reviews!


	4. Part 4x1

**A/N:** Ohh boy. I'm in trouble, aren't I...? It's been months and I am very, very, very, very, very, very, _very sorry for the wait!_ What was going to be Part 4 is actually being split into two chapters so that updating won't take even longer. I'm very thankful for the reviews and favs and whatnot that people have given even in my absence. You guys are great, and I really hope that at least some of you have stuck around!

* * *

**4x1**

* * *

The girl's eyes had been fixed so intently on the man in front of her that it wasn't until the two of them stepped onto the train that she seemed to realized how absolutely packed the station was. Izaya and his quiet companion had boarded just at the beginning of rush-hour; middle-aged men in dark business suits made the majority of the passengers, most holding briefcases at their sides or on their laps if they'd been lucky enough to secure a real seat. The rest of the adults were women both young and old, also clad in suits, uniforms, or whatever else attire the nature of their work suggested to be appropriate. Only one other Raira student was in their car; he failed to make eye contact or even notice a high school girl's presence on the train with him, although it didn't seem like a loss… If Rio recognized him, she gave no sign, and Izaya presumed she might even be praying that no one from her school, whether a familiar face or not, would see her in the company of her traveling partner.

It took only a sweeping glance of the train car to tell that all of its seats were occupied. Izaya quickly stepped over to the nearest open pair of triangular hand-rings near the middle of the car and, without loosening his grip on her hand, led Rio to them. She stared for a moment or two at the supports that hung down, as if she wasn't sure what to do, and he watched as she tentatively stretched her arm up, reaching skyward with fingers that just barely managed to hook themselves around the bottom of the suspended handle.

"You're too short." Izaya stated the obvious and released her hand, making his right arm an available support. "Hold on to me, or you'll go flying." Rio, however, shook her head in defiance at his suggestion.

"No… I'm fine. I won't—"

At that moment, the train began to move; Rio's feeble grip on the handle above her was shaken almost immediately and the sudden motion caused her to stumble, falling backwards and directly into Izaya's predicting one-armed embrace. An audible squeak accompanied her collision that further rewarded the logic of his forewarning. "Something tells me you aren't going to like it if I say 'I told you so'…"

The smile on Izaya's face appeared more gentle than patronizing; nonetheless, Rio stubbornly glared at the compartment's floor without answering him. "You aren't going to try standing on your own, are you? As the legal adult accompanying you to our destination, I have to say I feel some obligatory responsibility for your safe arrival there… Let go of me, and there's no doubt you're going to end up hurt." The suddenly willful teen lifted her head back up to retort, but Izaya promptly intercepted her challenge before a single word could get out. "Don't be stupid! Sacrifice your pride for some common sense…"

"Fine." The curtness of Rio's reply was an attempt to evade further lecturing. And, his point had been made… Izaya decided to give her a break. She kept her body turned towards his, although the embarrassed and uncomfortable look on her face didn't vanish. He did not feel the need to verbally acknowledge her surrender. The height difference of almost a foot between them allowed instead for the taller man to comfortably rest his chin against the top of her head, helping to keep her in place during the train's turns. His expectations of her shrinking away were quietly countered; Rio simply rested her face against his chest, and finally returned the supportive one-armed hug.

In the eyes of any watching passengers aboard, the two of them appeared like just another affectionate young couple. It was an illusion that Rio either didn't consider before huddling against him or had calmly accepted as her public cover for the day.

_She doesn't want to make a scene with me._

Minutes later Izaya wondered if he was feeling a slight unconscious betrayal of the yielding demeanor in her trembling body, or if, perhaps— though quite possibly against the odds— it was just the subtle vibration of the train as it rolled slowly into Shinjuku Station.

* * *

Rio huddled closer against Nakura as the bus doors slid open to let the other people hurry past them. Her senses told her that if she tried to leave too soon she'd just end up being pushed about by strangers as they spilled out of the train to scatter throughout the station in the direction of their individual choosing. And, maybe… there was also the possibility of not wanting to give up the safe position she currently occupied against her companion's body. Though it embarrassed and unnerved her to be pressed so closely to someone whose sudden appearance had induced a panic attack not even one hour ago, during the short ride Rio also could feel a light tingle floating guiltily in her chest, which made its way down to her stomach and spread throughout the rest of her shaky body in a matter of seconds. It was a warm, fleeting hum, a combination of excitement and anxiety and she was aware that it had become a bit difficult to breathe; with every bit of air that she drew into her lungs the sensation fluttered and pulsed more deeply at its source, somewhere suspiciously close to her heart…

The side of her cheek was still pressing on the triangle of bare skin left exposed by Nakura's shirt, and the v-neck slanted up and out widely enough that Rio was able to notice where sharply defined clavicles began near the base of his neck. One of her hands formed a small fist around the border of the fabric. If she just extended her thumb, she'd realized at some point during the ride, she would be able to feel and trace over his thin skin the couple inches of bone that weren't concealed under clothing… if not for the butterflies distracting her from giving consideration to any thoughts that weren't just as fleeting as the feeling itself, she might have even been tempted. Careful consideration, however, would probably have deterred her anyway; when based on the context for Rio's first encounter with Nakura such an action was awkward— if not inappropriate altogether— given the odd relationship established between them.

And what just was that, exactly?

Rio had never been forced to describe the details surrounding her mysterious contact, although she did remember how her parents had at least taken notice of the way their daughter's cell phone was practically glued to her hands around that time. They were not overprotective or even nosy by most standards, but there had been a few times when curiosity beat out the respect for privacy, especially when the teen developed a bad habit of fiddling with her cell under the dinner table— not quite discreetly enough, as it seemed; her mother had chosen to comment on it one night as the three of them chewed the food from their plates.

_"Rio, you use your phone too much… Please, at least put it away for dinner."_

_"Sorry— I will, I promise! Just give me a minute to finish this message."__  
_  
_"Who are you talking to?"_ The inquiry had come from her father who was sitting on the right, though he didn't sound as displeased with her lack of manners. _"It's…" _Rio paused to think of a way to describe Nakura that wouldn't raise a red flag for concern for either parent. _"I'm just texting a friend. From school," _she'd added nonchalantly. _"Oh?" _He prompted. _'Talking to strangers online is dangerous'_, Rio knew. But by now she'd been warned enough times to realize that it was just another paranoid rule that stemmed from technophobic adults who would only acknowledge the horror stories. '_You shouldn't trust anyone on the internet, Rio. Never let someone try to meet you in person— and especially not…'_  
_  
__"A boy…?"_

Her father asked the question so lightly; he'd waited to respond after taking a couple bites of his dinner— just enough time for the question to seem just like the continuation of their casual conversation as opposed to any suspicious probing. Rio knew better. _"Why are you asking that?" _The gender of her friends had never been an issue or even brought up at all. But then…

_"Well… You're just getting to that age, I suppose. "_Of course. _'That age.' _And after all, as Rio was quickly reminded by her mother, it was her parents' job to ask these things. _"So, what's his name?"_

She didn't want to be a deceptive child. Her parents trusted her; she'd never given them any room for doubt. Though, Rio already had declined to confront her parents directly about her father's photogenic affair and how things still seemed shockingly normal on the surface. Did her father really have the nerve to discreetly grill her about her own love life…? She'd picked quietly at her dinner then, feeling the faint blush as it made her face warmly glow. The longer it took her to answer, the more obvious her reluctance to speak about such things would be.

But was it already too late? Rio felt it would be in her favor to try lying_—_ just this once. _"It's not a boy…"_

She could tell they hadn't believed her; though, thankfully, both of her parents' faces looked amused rather than concerned. For some reason that had made Rio feel more angry than anything, but she couldn't be sure if it was directed at their quiet acceptance of their daughter's first crush or her own denial. If Nakura was really just a boy from school, would she have told them? Looking back on it now and feeling the slightest bit dizzy just because his arm was still wrapped around her— even as he escorted her off the train and through the station— Rio doubted it. She hadn't told her parents anything… not her fears of their content family life crumbling away nor the eventual resentment she harbored towards the both of them for acting as though nothing was going on. She hadn't even given her parents the slightest clue that their daughter was so depressed.

Nakura gave her the support that not even either of them could; after all, weren't they the problem? If required to provide a simple answer to the question, _"What is he to you?"_ one year ago— and of course, before _then_— Rio would have listed Nakura as her close friend. But in her mind she'd always known he meant far more to her than just that… Had those feelings changed once they'd truly met? Her quickened heartbeat while she'd pressed against him in the train provided a shamefully clear answer, one that scared her. The acuteness of Rio's anxiety had started to fade the moment she accepted his hand at the first station. All of those silly adolescent emotions from last year were resurfacing; this was bad. Very, very bad. She couldn't afford to soften up now, and definitely not before they really talked… Hell, he didn't even remember her! Did he always try to bring girls back to his place like this? Still, if he did, Rio didn't think it would change a thing; she wasn't special to him, after all. She never had been. And that's what had hurt the most. Nakura was the single person she had opened up to about anything. She trusted him, the only one she could afford to, and spilled all of her secrets… well, nearly all— Rio had never officially confessed. She didn't express that night how everything Nakura did for her; providing validation when no one else bothered or noticed her problems; confiding in her his own family struggles so personally that she knew he wasn't simply looking to complain; letting her voice her opinions and providing his own input surrounding both of their issues; and never, ever judging her or downplaying her situation had allowed her to open her heart— and she had been prepared to give it to him. Nakura offered an extreme solution for the two of them, but the way he phrased it with the subliminal implication of that one simple word— _'together'_— had served as such a hook for her that anything at all he could have proposed would be appealing.

Nakura had a talent for such things, as she could see now… a real way with words; he could come off as quite the gentleman, in fact. He'd waited so considerately until all of the other passengers from their car had left. _Why is he being polite now? He's awful, really, really awful…_ Regardless of any involuntary chest flutters, Rio hadn't forgotten that. Not in the least. _How can someone so bad act this nice to me? Especially after that? _She'd felt so foolish for falling victim to Nakura's guise, but seeing him behave so naturally courteous now was actually helping disperse the cloud of self-blame that had hung over her since the night of their first meeting.

Still… There was the glint in his eyes when he spoke, the way his tongue could be so sharp with blunt words— that well-mannered persona he tended to embody could never fully mask what rudeness was to be found just under the surface. Harsh, belittling statements were always lying in wait for the moment the cruel jester came out to play… and as he did, that switch was so instantaneous and subtle it might take several seconds to even register the cruelness woven into those words; Nakura could tell someone that they were ugly or stupid with a tone so casual that it was just as well suited for small-talk about the recent weather patterns. Even his outer decency was the kind of innocence that left the more attentive folk wary no matter how carefree and 'normal' Nakura seemed, and Rio imagined that those people would admit they weren't even sure why. Thoughts like _'there's something off' _and _'it's just that vibe' _might cross through the most observant minds of those who encountered him; it certainly hadn't taken long for her own intuition to pick up on the strangeness exuding from Nakura's calm demeanor as he'd explained arranging for her rescue.

_'…And if you do try to meet them, Rio, always trust your instincts.'_

Even when the first 'Nakura' approached her earlier that night in the crowd, she had nevertheless chosen to follow him instead of her common sense. Back then such advice had come too late for her; maybe it would be more accurate to say that those gut feelings were simply useless against the apathy of someone who'd all but lost hope— up until the immediate danger had struck. She shouldn't have gone with him. She knew better than that… if not then, how about now? Had she learned anything at all from that past lesson? An outsider might assume not.

But Rio was no longer shackled to her malleable gloom.

This time around, should a similarly nasty fate await her after all, she was prepared to fight to defend both her life and her honor, refusing to let Nakura make her out to be the same fool that she was before.

_Tonight will be different. No matter what, I'll be strong._ A promise was formed from these simple words in the back of her mind, with the sole intention of protecting her heart at all costs…

Rio was suddenly aware of a shift in movement as Nakura's arm fell away from her at last. The two had made it out to the street, where the need for such a physically-guiding escort was reaching its end. For a moment she expected him to reach out again for her hand— but the opportunity came and went as Nakura turned his body away from hers as they started following the sidewalk; she refused to let herself feel disappointed by the discontinuation of contact. The two of them had furthermore not exchanged a single word since the departure of the train, though she wasn't about to complain about that. Even the shortest of exchanges between them today had felt patronizing and left Rio dreading the next time Nakura that would open his mouth.

Alas, it was too soon.

* * *

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Izaya said as they continued along Shinjuku's streets side-by-side. Rio hovered slightly behind him, her pace more hesitant as he led the way. "Sorry for the walk!"

"That's fine." Her reply was almost lost as a police siren began to wail nearby. It was just beginning to get dark. Izaya wondered if she had given any thought as to how she'd get home later; did she have bus fare to return on her own? He'd paid for the ride here before Rio could even consider searching through her own bag for the change. It seemed fair to him that he should also provide any necessary means for the return trip, since bringing her with him to Shinjuku was Izaya's own spontaneous idea.

"Have you ever been to this area before…?" Neither one of them wanted to complete the short trek in complete silence. Rio looked around at her surroundings; Izaya watched as she took in the tall skyscrapers that were packed tightly against one another in rows on either side of the street and answered him with her eyes still scanning the brightly colored signs all around them. "Probably… Some of the stores over there looked familiar. I think my friend has taken me shopping here before."

"Well, of course. There are dozens of entertainment hot spots around here and more than enough malls to keep teenage girls busy." They turned the corner, though Izaya glanced back. "Ah… Shinjuku is famous for a few other things too that I don't think you'd be interested in."

That only piqued Rio's curiosity. "What things?"

"You haven't heard of Ni-choume?" Izaya answered her predictable question in the form of another.

"I've heard boys in my class talk about it... Sometimes they accuse one of their friends of going there as a joke. It's, um… That's where all those bars are, right?" There was clear recognition on her face now; Izaya smiled at her shy lack of specification. "Yes. Shinjuku Ni-choume is actually the most highly concentrated area for gay subculture entertainment spots in the world… There are over two-hundred clubs and bars there, you know." Of course she didn't— not in numbers, at least. Watching Rio's expression turn awkwardly modest at the new topic, he waited for her response.

"You sound like you know a lot about the city…"

"I live here." Izaya replied in blunt response to her having stated the obvious. Rio instantly looked embarrassed and wouldn't return Izaya's gaze, now speaking with some subtle suspicion attached to her next words. "I meant Ni-choume..."

Izaya laughed at the subliminal hint he was sensing. _An odd discussion subject for a reunion, definitely…_ "You're wondering if I go there? Well, sure." He moved on quickly, giving Rio no chance to edge in a flustered reaction. "It's a uniquely fascinating scene, honestly. There are interesting people. As for various areas of the city in general, of course it doesn't hurt anyone to be informed." _And especially not me._ Izaya began to think about how much regarding his true identity, the real life of the man she'd known to be 'Nakura', he would be disclosing to the younger girl soon. She seemed adamant in at least knowing his name; well, that was no problem… Izaya's occupation as an information broker, however, might be a bit convenient to dodge. _I might be able to simply say I'm a businessman without her being nosy about the details._ Perhaps if she were forewarned about his extensive information network, he'd no longer have the upper hand in some ways… at the very least, the fun of surprising and even scaring her with his abundant resources and inside information regarding her personal life— things that Izaya now planned to look into as soon as she left— might disappear. Rio might begin to expect the unexpected from him. For now, Izaya wished to stay as enigmatic as she'd let him get away with.

The tempo of their conversation had been ruined by Rio's silence. Was she judging him now, from the limited supply of info he'd just given? Izaya was not one to participate in the modern danshoku lifestyle as portrayed through the atmosphere of Shinjuku's gay nightlife scene; Rio though, briefly exposed to its reputation, might currently be drawing her own conclusions about him, reassessing her feelings… Maybe he'd regret joking about this. "I was just teasing, anyway!" Rio's face was still slightly red as Izaya suddenly halted after they both turned a slight corner.

"Now, look up…" He lifted his gaze and raised an arm upwards to point at the top of the building in front of them, and Rio's eyes followed. "The top two floors there—See?" Izaya glanced back at the girl just in time to catch sight of the surprise register on her face and her mouth drop.

"…What? Is this not what you expected?"

* * *

**Post-Chapter A/N:** For a detailed explanation and reasons behind Closure's unannounced hiatus these past several months, go check the new post on my DRRR! fanworks Tumblr: oildrumhall. I'm not sure when Part 5 a.k.a. Part-4-Part-2 (wow dumb) will be finished. I've started college classes again, but I've already moved Closure back up to the top of my free-time priorities list~


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